This was it. Everything was over and you were the one to blame. Everything the two of you had built up, wiped away, unable to ever be rebuilt. The game of what if was now constantly playing through your head, making you notice every little mistake you had made. But sadly, what ifs wouldn't help anymore. They couldn't bring Jack back to you. Not when all that you guys had built was gone.
*flashback*
It was 3 a.m., and while most people were sleeping, you were up and waiting nervously to make sure your best friend made it home safely to the apartment you two shared. That was always your biggest worry when Jack went out drinking or did something reckless; that he may never return. You hated the fact that he drank and did some stupid things. But the two of you had been friends since diapers, and you loved him like a brother.
Close to 3:30, there was a knock of your door and you let out a sigh of relief know Jack had returned safely. Tiredly, you opened the door relieved to find a surprisingly sober Johnson and a very drunk Jack. Sighing, you thanked Johnson and helped him bring Jack over to the couch. Once the two of you had adjusted his large frame to fit on the couch, Johnson went to go grab Advil from the medicine cabinet while you went and got some water for Jack to drink later, when the hangover effects sunk in. This had become a weekly routine and you didn't know how much longer you could watch your best friend waste away.
The thought of cutting Jack off and abandoning him brought tears to your eyes, but so did the thought of staying in this sad excuse of a friendship. Looking down at your drunk best friend, you let a few tears slip. Johnson had come back into the room and gave you a hug.
"Stay strong," he whispered. "If not for yourself, for Gilinsky."
You sniffled and nodded, walking Johnson to the door and closing it softly behind him. You then walked back over to Jack. He was barely awake at this point, and seeing him in this state always broke your heart.
"Why Jack? What's so fun about being like this?" you asked, your voice involuntarily cracking at the end.
Jack rolled his eyes. "it'ssssss fun," he said slurring his words.
But it wasn't fun, not to you. You always were the one to take care of him. You had to deal with his mood swings the next day when he was hungover. You had to cover for him when his mom called and he was too busy getting drunk off his ass, high, or sometimes both. Suddenly, anger consumed you and you had to get your feelings off you chest, even if Jack didn't remember them tomorrow.
"No," you said, your voice cold and firm. "it isn't fun. Not for me, Jack. I'm the one stuck looking after you, paying the rent because you've spent all your money on booze and weed. How is that supposed to be fun to me?"
By the end of your rant, you were yelling and tears were streaming down your face. All you wanted was to understand why your best friend did this to you.
Still slurring his words, Jack answered, "No one asked you to care, bitch. Loosen up and learn to have some fun with me and my friends."
This had been your breaking point. You couldn't continue a friendship like this anymore. You decided that you deserved better.
"Get out, Jack! Get the hell out of my apartment!"
Jack sat up from the couch and grabbed his keys. "Whatever. Call me when you're done acting like my mom."
You followed him to the door, slamming it when he left. You slumped down into a sitting position against the door and that was when the sobs came. Unable to control it, you cried until you had no tears let and fell asleep with your back still against the door.
*end of flashback*
That night, you were woken up by a phone call. A phone call that caused the world as you knew it to come crashing down. Jack had gotten into an accident and hadn't made it. You were listed his first emergency contact and were asked to come and identify the body.
You called Johnson, sobbing. He was at your apartment in minutes, tears falling from his eyes too. Together, you two went and identified the body. The officer said that while Jack may have been driving intoxicated, that wasn't necessarily what killed him. He had been texting while driving.
The officer handed you the phone, which caused you to once again break down into sobs. He had been texting you. The text wasn't completed but the two words that had been fully written out read "I'm sorry".
It had been two months since then. The funeral had been held a week after Jack's death, but you hadn't gone to visit him since then. Johnson came and checked on you a few times a week, but the two of you were distant. You because you still blamed yourself, and Johnson because he didn't know how to help you.
Since it had been two months, you decided it was long overdue to visit your best friend. Jack hated flowers and so you knew better than to bring a bouquet with you. You knelt in front of his grave and let the tears fall silently for a while.
"I want to forgive you, Jack," you began. "for what exactly, I don't know. Maybe for leaving me here in this unforgiving world by myself or maybe for drinking all the time. I don't know what exactly, but I don't think I can yet. I first have to forgive myself for being the reason that you died, before I can start forgiving you."
With that, you stood up and left the cemetery. You never turned to look back at Jack's grave.
